


Tonight

by jesse_panic



Category: Thor (2011), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, M/M, Male Slash, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesse_panic/pseuds/jesse_panic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has returned and he must meet with Thor, but with their existence in constant flux, do they still feel the same way about each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight

There’s more than one meaning, and more than one outcome, to any given event. Particularly for us. Despite my constant desire for spontaneity, and your diligent oath to overcome your demons, we do tend to repeat ourselves. Each time we do this, we know. We know which meaning we are going to ascribe to our actions, and we know which actions we are going to take, this time. But that doesn’t mean the other actions, other meanings aren’t there.

Take today for instance. Today your embrace was more than forgiveness, and more than compassion. It was also a blow across the face for my wickedness, a snarl of disgust at my treachery. It had been those before and will be again. Similarly, my acceptance was also a rejection, as I cling to you in relief I scratch at your eyes from the pain of constantly falling short of your perfection. It could be an angry cuff for leaving. How easily these tears of joy could have been bitter tears of conscience, rejection, frustration... but not today. Today it is joy, embraces, tears, and kisses. After I am no longer clinging to your robe I have something else to cling to, your whispered promise of tonight.

It is not just us who dance this multiplicitous cabaret of actions and potential actions, significances within significances, it is all of us. Take this feast, for instance; it could be for the deeds of a hero, for the return of a son thought lost, for the vanquishing of an enemy, or for the reunion of two brothers in arms, or it could be for all of them or none. But it will always be a feast for something; the meaning can be ascribed later, if at all. The food is sumptuous, but I would have savoured it as much if it were ash, for I could see your eyes watching me, studying each of my movements. Now, this means intimacy, and relief that I am alive as you relearn my habits; another day it will mean scrutiny through lack of trust, or a sceptical confusion at my actions. As I study you, I do so longingly; not jealously, spitefully or wistfully at I have done, will do and do mean.

Make no mistake, the shadow actions and undermeanings do not detract from the raw, fresh, excited emotions of the now- if anything, they enhance them. To have reached the mutual stability of thought and meaning together, to have fought through the rotary of past and potential actions in this fluxus to achieve this love, how can that not deepen the bonds, strengthen the emotions, reinforce the feeling that this is so, so right? Why should a love tainted with hate be less than a love borne out of chaste woodland kisses and marriage and monotony and boredom? We are closest to our family, our friends, our lovers and our enemies; if someone was your everything does that somehow their diminish their role as your lover? These are the things I think as dark brown eyes judge me as I make my excuses and leave the hall with you. My heart races when your arm brushes against mine.

Where shall we go? I know a place. Out of the lightfall of the hall I take your hand and lead you to a secret place. The tumbledown ruin of an old watchtower, ignored by everyone everywhere and anyone who was anyone. It is hiding in plain sight, and because of this I feel a certain kinship to it.

Do you remember when we used to play here as children? You would insist on climbing as high as you could go, before the steps became little more than broken shales and the sun pierced the cracks in the worn stone. I remember my timid hesitation as clearly as I remember the firm grip of your hand on my wrist. You climbed higher and higher and I tumbled after. I would be covered with scratches, bruises and cuts from where I fell, having only one hand to grip with and being naturally slighter, making traversing the gaps in the stonework painful, but I never complained. You were holding me, you would keep me safe. And when we climbed back down, and the sunlight would fall onto my bruises and wounds, you always be surprised. Sometimes this would be frustrating, but mostimes it was endearing, how your eyes expanded and filled with sadness at the sight of me.

Brother, did I do this to you? No, I did this to myself, for you, but I won’t say it. This is one of the things I never said, no matter how many times we climbed that tower, or how much of my blood fell onto those stones. I didn’t want to ruin the moment which came next, when you would hold me tightly, pick me up and carry me to that stone fencepost- that one there- and sit me on it to examine my wounds, all the time whispering heartfelt apologies. Bless you, you were never much of a healer, but you would carefully examine my scratches, and remove any splintered shale which you found. You would rip your tunic sleeves into tourniquets and wash them in brook water to bind my bruises. You would give me your gloves to walk home in, lest the fresh air make my bare knuckles sore. That was a moment which was constant, never changing and never meaning anything different. No matter which role we played later, I would hold onto that and know what the most truthful reality was. No matter how much we spar, how many times we defeat each other... I know that you love me, as much as I love you.

Tonight, tonight will be another constant. There is no other meaning to these actions. They are etched into the ether as what they are and no more, forever. As you prop me against the fencepost, there is no anger belying your tenderness. The hand under your cloak, around your neck has no desire to strangle or harm you. As we lean into each other and our heads touch, and we breathe in each other’s scent, there is no acting, no duplicity, nothing else. Only us, here, now. I exhale and feel the weight of my role in this play escape my body, falling with my breastplate to the ground. I greedily inhale as if half drowned as I unfasten your cloak: I need to breathe you in once more. The scent of you sets my mind on fire. There is ash and honey from the feast, sweat from the fight, iron from your armour, and yet there is a cleaner, subtler aroma within. I believe that this is you.

Now we are nothing but action and emotion and reaction. Your mouth on my neck makes me fall closer in to you, and I can barely work my fingers as I unfasten your armour. The sound it makes as it drops to the ground is slow, dull, and almost unreal. You hands tug clumsily at my tunic, throwing me off balance for just a moment as I slip my hands over your shoulders and kiss you, just once, on the mouth. We are in synch as our lips touch, and I feel the fabric against my stomach being tugged away. My muscles tighten against the night air, but your hands are already around my back to warm me, and the moment is perfect.

I pull away slightly to look you in your eyes. I need to ask you a question. I will always need to ask this question, to grant you the same privilege my other lovers had. So far, you have always answered the same way. But tonight, tonight I am afraid circumstances have changed, and that you will ask me to do the unthinkable, which I would without complaining, so we could be together. For the first time in aeons, I am nervous; perhaps it shows in my eyes. Nevertheless, I must know. What role do you want me to play? I could be anyone for you, even though it would hurt more than a thousand daggers. You are taking longer to answer than usual... why is your expression so unreadable? Damn your eyes, is this the end?! Do you not want me anymore, after you found out that I was... and after her? No, no, please...

Your smile chases my fears away as light chases the darkness at dawn. ‘Do not look so afraid, no do not have to adopt any role for me, and you never shall. Just be you.’ Your laughter shall ring through my mind forever. ‘Just be me.’ And I am. I will not be who I was born to be, nor who Father wished me to be, though adopting a role is in my nature, so- I am sorry- but I must. And I know what I must be. I have played so many roles, but tonight shall be my greatest. I am the best at what I do. I have never been constrained by breeding, or class, or gender. I have been the noble, the beggarman, the warrior. I have been the virgin, the mother, the whore. But tonight, tonight I am greater than every part which came before me, for tonight, I am yours.


End file.
